Facade
by paganpunk2
Summary: Sky Captain never could have imagined Dex had a secret this dark.  Angst, self-mutilation, slashiness.  Now complete!  Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

To everyone who knew him, he was the epitome of control. He was the one who was calm, collected, logical, loyal, and utterly unflappable in a crisis. Mr. Nice-to-Everyone, even nosy reporters poking in where they weren't needed, wanted, or welcome. Mr. Fix-It, Mr. Build-It, Mr. I-Can-Always-Make-Another when Sky Captain dropped it or lost it or let the enemy of the month blow it up. The darkest anyone had ever seen his expression was when they caught him scowling at a tangled bundle of wires or glaring at a mangled pile of machinery that had, until a moment before at least, been very promising. He was the base mascot in a way, sweet and adorable and socially naïve. He was also utterly, completely miserable.

No one ever saw that side, though. He made sure of it.

It wasn't all façade, or at least he didn't think it was. He really did believe that most people were basically good, underneath all the scratches and chips that the world inflicted on the surface of their personalities over the course of a lifetime. Being nice to people came almost as naturally to him as putting screw A into hole B so that engine C would run like it was supposed to rather than exploding or dying in midair. Comic books and gum were precious not only because they gave him half of his ideas and protected his teeth from the grinding damage years of having other people's lives in your hands tended to inflict but because they were things he truly enjoyed. He had wondered once if his love of such items was an attempt to make up for the childhood he'd never really had, but the thought had made his Dubble Bubble turn to bile on his tongue and he had immediately cut off that line of reasoning.

In the end, it was the "immature" aspects of his character that caused him to hide the other facets. His supposed innocence made him into a sort of beacon of – what? Purity? Decency? – something, something that meant something to the people around him, the people he cared about, the people he cherished. The people he would give his life for in an instant. The people he wished some nights would fall into the degree of danger that was necessary for him to prove that he would take their place in a coffin. He represented something that they needed to believe in, and recognizing this he had long ago stuffed his monsters into the darkest corners of his mind, bringing them out only when he was alone and could ignore their clamoring no longer.

Tonight was one of those nights. It didn't matter that he hadn't seen his father in fifteen years, didn't matter that the bastard had no way of getting to him here, at least not directly. All that mattered at this very moment was that the specter of Phillip Dearborn had decided to rear its ugly head, and that meant that the public side of Dex was busy thinking of ways to explain his injuries in the morning while the private side propelled his fist into his jaw again.

_It's Friday, no one will hear anything, they've all gone to town…_

A hard smacking sound as his knuckles met his cheekbone.

_You pathetic little fuck, always locked in your room. When are you going to get a friend already? Or are you too good for other people? _

He picked up an empty beer bottle from the nightstand – he always tried to down a couple before the memories took over, it lessened the pain – and smashed it across the fingers of his left hand. A few shards stuck in the skin, blood welling up around them slowly.

_Say you were working on the telephones and accidently broke a transformer cover. _

_You can't live in a dream world. Dreams don't come true. Figure it out. _

_Stand up on the bed now, close your eyes, waver a little. _ _The chair's there – fall so you miss it, or someone will notice it's gone and ask,_ his rational self murmured. He started to go over, tried to save himself out of pure instinct, and then punched out again in pure rage at his attempt at self-preservation.

_Goddamn coward, afraid of a little tap or two from your old man. Going to have to man you up. _

The cold, hard boards of the floor bruised his shoulder, but nothing else. He'd learned too long ago to go limp before he hit the ground, and the vague pain wasn't enough to satisfy the black maelstrom in his head.

_What're you going to do if you have to fight a war like I did? Just curl up and die? No son of mine-_

Piles of texts and comics crashed to the floor as he threw himself sideways into the dresser. His side hit a half-open drawer, knocking the air out of his lungs and making him grope at his chest.

_The breaking glass surprised you, made you fall off of the ladder. That's it. You just fell._

His first degree had been on the dresser top, hidden among the stacks, and as he launched himself against the drawer again it succumbed to gravity. The corner of the frame caught the back of the head as he bent forward, gasping for oxygen, and he cried out for the first time during this session. Copper from where he'd bitten down on his lip too hard filled his mouth, and he moaned low in the back of his throat.

_What are you screaming for? You think this is pain? You think this hurts? I'll give you something that will hurt, cry-baby._

_ Fell off the ladder and hit your head. Maybe it tipped backwards, kind of threw you a ways. That seems more plausible with these injuries. Yeah. They'll believe that._

Still whimpering slightly, he dragged himself into his chair and considered the articles on his desk. The hot plate – that would have to be next, wouldn't it? He plugged it in and, while he was waiting, gave himself a few more smacks across the face, his skin growing super-sensitive before numbing entirely.

_Burns are nothing, you dumb asshole. You remember that 'B' you got in English last week? Yeah? You know what starts with 'B', don't you? Let's see if you do._

It was ready now, nice and hot. Rolling up his sleeve, he laid his forearm across the top, smelling burned hair and flesh almost immediately. A hiss escaped him, but he didn't move.

_Bet you don't go visiting 'B' territory again, do you? I didn't think so._

_ Say you burned yourself earlier, before you went to look at the telephone. Probably no one will even see it, if you keep your sleeves rolled down. Your face is what you'll have to explain. Caught your chin on a box as you fell off the ladder, that's it._

He persevered in his self-castigation, practically feeling his father's hard grip pressing his arm to the burning metal. "Please," he whispered, mouth tight against his elbow. "Please, daddy, let me up. 'M sorry. Please. It hurts." A second more, and the weight holding him down vanished. He yanked the scorched limb back and cradled it, rocking back and forth slowly as a thin sob fled his cracked lips.

A suddenly knock on the door brought him bolt-upright, eyes wide in horror. _They didn't hear,_ he tried to comfort himself as the demon that was his father fled back into its midnight corner, well aware that when others were about it stood no chance of defeating his iron will to keep his secrets to himself. "…Yes?" he queried, hoping his voice was semi-normal.

"…Dex?" _Joe. Shit. If anyone will notice something off, he will._

"Yeah, Cap? You need something?"

"...Your door is locked," the voice noted curiously, the handle turning slightly as the man on the other side tried to open it.

"Oh! Sorry. I was kind of in bed already. Did you need something?"

"Catch you in middle of something?" His tone was joking, but Dex sensed a layer of suspicion underneath the friendly joviality.

"Well, like I said, I was in bed."

Still outside and frustrated as hell, Joe decided to go for broke. "Whoever she is, she must be quite the rough little minx," he said. Dropping any pretense, he went on. "Either that or you're taking an ax to your furniture, judging from the noises I've been hearing."

"I thought you went to town with Polly," Dex shot back at him.

"I did. Then I came back, because she was annoying me."

"Isn't that usual for her?"

"Yes, it is. What's not so usual, however, is for you to do the same thing with equal aplomb. Like you are right now," he added acidly, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame. "Open the door."

"Do you need something, or are you just aiming to keep me awake all night?"

"All night seems a bit premature, seeing as how it's only eight o'clock."

"So you don't need anything."

"Yes, Dex, I do," he sighed wearily, sick of the game. "I need you to open this door immediately, before I kick it in and find out why you sound like you're talking through a mouthful of cotton balls."

Every fiber of his being froze at those words._ Play it cool. You were working on the phones, caught a little shock that threw you off the ladder. Smacked your face, crunched the transformer glass in your hand. End of story. Tell him you stumbled coming back from the bathroom a minute ago, maybe he'll believe that's all he heard._ Gulping, he sat up as straight as he could manage with his still-throbbing ribs and flipped the lock without leaving his seat.

"It's open," he said finally, trying to steel himself up to lie to the man he loved as the door swung open. _Got to get this right. He can't know, it'll hurt him too much. He'll send me away, I know it. I have to lie. I have to._

_ I hate to._


	2. Chapter 2

Sky Captain was in the room instantly, observing his obvious injuries with a raised eyebrow. "Well? Who do I need to kill?"

"It was an accident. Nobody's responsible."

"Oh, all right then," he agreed sarcastically, staring at him for a few seconds before continuing. "Don't lie to me, Dex. I can tell."

"I'm not lying," he said, trying to sound somewhere between calm and annoyed. "I was working on the phones. I put my finger in the wrong place, caught a little electricity, and fell off of the ladder. I had the glass in my hand, you know, because I was working on it, and it broke when I hit the floor. No big deal. Really, it's nothing to worry about."

Joe shifted from foot to foot. Every ounce of him wanted his best friend to be telling him the truth, but he knew better. Something was very wrong here. The other man's voice, the rigid way he sat in his chair like he couldn't wait for him to leave, the flitting gaze that wouldn't meet his…none of that was Dex. He shook his head slowly. "I really wish I could believe you, you know. I really do."

"It's the truth, Cap."

He looked him up and down again, and this time caught something he hadn't before. "All right. So say it is the truth. You were working on the phones, got shocked, fell down with some glass in your hand. Then you came up here to dress it, right?" Dex nodded a little too eagerly. "Then where did that burn on your arm come from?"

"What?" _Buy time, buy time, think, stupid, think!_ "What burn do you mean?"

"_This_ burn, Dex," he growled, grabbing his arm and twisting it as he pulled so that they could both clearly see the three-inch-long section where there was virtually no skin left. "This god-awful thing that looks like you've been fighting a dragon without a shield. Did you light the telephone room on fire as well?"

"Oh! Uh, no. I did that earlier today." He hated this, abhorred lying to this man, loathed telling untruths to his Sky Captain, to Joe, to the only real friend - with the possible exceptions of Frankie and a puppy he'd had for three days before his father kicked it down the stairs and killed it – he had ever had. It was necessary, though. He would lose everything if anyone knew about the darkness his worst tormentors lurked in.

"Ah. I see." He sat down on the edge of the mattress and leaned forward interrogatively, Dex's arm still caught in his grasp. "Tell me…is there a special reason that you decided to go work on the telephone system with an open lesion? You might have at least gotten it bandaged first."

"I, uh…I don't know," he attempted. "It didn't seem that bad at the time. The phones were down, though, and I thought you might try to call for a ride if Polly got annoying and you'd been drinking. I didn't want you to drive home drunk, so I figured I'd fix the phones first."

It was a good try, Joe had to admit. If he hadn't known him so well, he might have believed it. He could still smell a hint of burned flesh, however, and a fleeting glance over the desktop gave him a good idea of where it was coming from. "Well, I guess that's believable enough," he conceded, releasing the wrist he'd been holding. "I'll let you get back to bed. Sorry I bothered you, Dex." He swung his hand purposefully towards the hot plate as he spoke, acting as if he were only going to push himself up from the bed.

"Careful! That's hot!" Dex warned him without thinking, knowing only that the pilot was about to fry his palm. He pushed him away from the offending heater an instant before he realized that he'd given himself away. "Ah, crud," he whispered as Joe's eyes drilled into his knowingly.

"Do you always leave that on, then? Seems like a good way to torch the building, especially with as much paper as you've got lying around." He spoke quietly, gently, attempting to fill the silence as the man across from him tried to collect himself. "Why, Dex?"

"It doesn't matter, Joe. It's past."

"Which is why you're still beating yourself up over it."

"Sure. Whatever."

"You hide it very well, whatever it is," he complimented him. "Better than I do."

Dex's head shot up. "Huh? If you mean the nightmares-"

"Yes, the nightmares. I can't hide them, at least not from you. From the others, yes, because I don't trust them with that knowledge. You, though…well." He shrugged. "It's different. At least I thought it was."

"It is different…Joe…I didn't mean to…I mean, I never told…please…"

"Please what? I'm not mad at you, Dex."

"Please don't make me tell," he begged, his eyes brimming over.

He reached out with his thumb and wiped the single tear that fell onto his cheek. "Tell what?"

"You _know_ what."

"No, I don't. Only you do." He paused. "I think you _should_ tell me."

"It's not really any of your business, you know," he tried to retort, hoping that anger would push Joe off the topic.

"You've made it my business."

"How so?"

"By letting me be your friend."

"That's lame, Cap. It's lame and you know it."

"No, it isn't. You and I are both painfully careful about who we let into our lives, who we let really see us. I know you've told me things before that you have told no other living soul, and that you probably never will. I've shared in the same way with you. In that way, we've made ourselves responsible for each other, _by choice_. So when I walk down a hallway and hear you beating yourself to a pulp, I think I have a right to know why. Even if I didn't have, you would still need to tell me, for your own good." His voice dropped. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, Dex," he pleaded. "I imagine you've been doing it for a very long time now, but you have to stop. What if you really hurt yourself next time? What if you _kill_ yourself next time? Well?"

"The world would move on, and probably be better for it."

"Fuck the world."

"Exactly. They wouldn't care. I'd be a sidebar at best." He smirked wryly. "The guy you hired to replace me would probably get more press."

"Fine. So let's say they turn a blind eye. Forget the rest of the world for a moment. What do you think happens to me?"

He looked up at him from beneath his eyebrows. "You're Sky Captain, for Christ sake, Joe. You'd move on, because it's what the world would expect you to do, would tell you to do. And you'd do it, for reasons of sheer survival. You've lost plenty of friends before now, and you're fine. You would be fine if you lost another."

"None of them were you," Joe said simply. "And if it ever is you that I lose, I will be far from fine." He grabbed the hand that didn't have pieces of glass sticking out of it and applied pressure. "Just imagining the torture that living in a world without you in it somewhere would be is worse than anything that haunts my actual memories, Dex."

He watched him for a long time, neither one speaking. "I'm sorry," he whispered finally, closing his eyes. "I don't want to do this, you know. I just…can't control it sometimes."

"You've never shown it in front of anyone that I'm aware of."

"It's different in front of people. I have this…this goody two-shoes, perfect little sidekick image that everyone expects me to keep up all the time, and I don't dare damage that. It would be bad for everyone involved, and I don't want anyone to get hurt by it. Least of all you."

"So you hurt yourself instead, when no one's around to see or hear."

"I guess. Yeah. Better me than someone else. No one ever questions my excuses, and I can usually stop before it gets too bad."

"And tonight? Is this 'not too bad'?"

"…No," he admitted. "But it hadn't popped up in a long time, either, so I'm not surprised."

"Is this the worst it's been?"

He almost laughed. "No. No, I got away with the worst one. Do you remember when I got run off the road coming back from that conference in Boston?"

"Yes. You were in surgery for three hours and in the hospital for weeks afterwards." He shuddered as he recalled how pale, how fragile Dex had seemed lying on that impersonal gurney, eyes closed in a coma the doctors refused to guarantee he would come out of. "It was awful."

"Yeah, well…There wasn't another car."

A pained expression crossed Joe's face. "You drove into that tree on purpose," he murmured. "_Why_, Dex? For God's sake, why?"

"Part of me meant to do it. Another part was screaming like crazy to hit the brakes."

"You could have been killed. You nearly _were_ killed."

"That was the point, I'm pretty sure." He shrugged and smiled wanly. "It didn't work, though."

"…Why?"

"Simple physics. I wasn't going fast enough, and I forgot to unbuckle my seatbelt."

He cringed. "You know I meant why did you do it."

"Look…" Dex shifted in his chair, biting at his already punctured lip. "Did…did your parents ever hit you?"

"If I deserved it, yes, my parents believed in corporal punishment."

"But only if you really deserved it."

"Yes."

"Must have been nice." Their eyes met, but after a second Dex tore away and concentrated on turning off the hot plate. Sky Captain watched to make sure he didn't 'accidently' brush against it in the process before speaking.

"Mother or father?" he asked finally.

"Both. Dad was the really bad one. Mom was silent when she hit me, and it wasn't so bad that way for some reason, but he'd call me every name in the book. It was like the more he talked the angrier he got, too. Mom would shove me around some and get bored, but Dad…he was different."

"How did you get away?"

"I didn't. They left me alone in the apartment one night when I was thirteen. Told me they were going to a movie. They did that sometimes, so I didn't think anything of it. That night it just so happened that they never came back. They vanished. They pawned everything with any real value, then…poof. Gone."

"Surely you were too young to be left to your own devices. Didn't anyone intervene?"

"I'd been given early admission at M.I.T. right before they left. I had a scholarship for once school started, and there were only a few weeks of summer left, so they let me move into the dorms early. It was easier for everyone to just not ask why my parents left in the first place."

"My bloody little genius," Joe whispered affectionately. "Literally and metaphorically, as it were."

Dex just shrugged. "I didn't ask for it, you know."

"I know."

"I think that might be why they did what they did. My parents, I mean. I think I was scary to them, always tearing things apart so I could put them back together differently. When I was eight, all mom could talk about was getting a radio. That's all we heard all summer long, was how great it would be if we could afford one. Dad said we couldn't, but I wanted to make her happy. So I built one for her for Christmas. It wasn't pretty to look at, but it worked."

Sky Captain gaped at him. "You…_how?_"

"There was this alley a few blocks away that was always full of old junk. I found a couple of broken ones there, and took them apart so I could see how they worked. I looked at a few books down at the library, too, and just kind of faked it from there. Like I said, it wasn't very nice looking, but it did what it was supposed to do. I thought she'd like it."

"Didn't she?"

"She wouldn't touch it. Her and dad gave each other this weird look and mom kind of choked out a thank you. She wouldn't go into the living room so long as it was there. That night after I went to bed and I heard dad say he was going to take care of it. It was gone the next morning."

"Didn't you ask what he'd done with it?"

"I was afraid he'd hit me."

"My God. Dex, that's a terrible story."

He smiled sadly. "It got better after I started college. At least there no one beat me up. I learned how to read who would appreciate the stuff I came up with. Most of the other students were jealous of the attention I got from the professors, so I didn't really have any friends, but it wasn't so bad. Having no social life gave me a lot of time to study."

"What about that Robbie fellow you introduced me to once? Didn't you say you two were friends at school?"

"Yeah, Robbie was okay. I always got the idea that he hung out with me because I made a good study partner. That, and I let him copy my homework sometimes."

"Oh. So…not really a friend."

"I didn't tell him anything, if that's what you're wondering. I did a year or so of freelance work – that's how I met Frankie - and then she introduced me to you." He smiled. "Someone who actually understood me."

"I don't understand _this,_ though, Dex. I don't understand why you hurt yourself. You're free of him. It's over."

"We're never free of our past, Joe. You of all people ought to know that."

Sky Captain's shoulders slumped. "I hate hearing you say that with such conviction."

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault, I just…" Standing, he paced the small room in agitation. "I'm going to tell you something I swore I never would," he announced finally.

"All right."

He knelt before him and gently took both of his hands up. "The whole time I was in that hell of a prison camp, do you know what I kept thinking?"

"What?" Dex whispered back. He hated the haunted look the other man always wore when he talked about those months, but he didn't dare stop him, not when he seemed so determined to speak.

"I kept thinking, thank God you got held up by that visiting General and didn't make it to the flight line in time to leave. I've never forgotten that you were supposed to go with me that day, and I have never been more grateful for anything in my life than for the fact that you didn't end up there with me. I thought…I thought I had been spared the pain of watching you be hurt like that. But I was wrong." He laid his head against the seated man's knees. "The damage was already done, long before, and I never knew. You've been punishing yourself for someone else's crimes all this time. I can't stand it, Dex. I really can't."

"I'm sorry. I can't help it. It just takes over, and I…I can't stop it."

"You stopped it tonight."

"Only because you came in. It hides when other people are around, especially if it's people who might actually give a damn."

"I want you to make me a promise, Dex," Sky Captain requested, meeting his eyes after a moment's thought.

"What is it, Cap?"

"From now on, when you feel it starting, you find me. If I'm not here, you find _someone_, anyone, and you stay near people until it gives up. Please, please don't do this to yourself anymore. Don't let it control you."

"I can't promise that, Joe. I'm sorry, but I can't always stop it. I wish I could."

"Will you try, at least?"

"Sometimes it's better to just let it out," he explained. "If I let it build up, if I force it back into its box, it's worse when it finally does take over. That's how I ended up crashing the car."

"But you never had anyone to talk to about it, right?"

"Well, no."

"Now you do. Maybe that will take away its power. Will you try that for me? Talk it out with me when it tries to overwhelm you?"

He nodded slowly. "Okay. I don't think it will work, but…"

"Yes?"

"You know I'd do anything you asked, Cap. I'll try."

"Good boy, Dex," he murmured, cupping the side of his face briefly. "Now," he went on, straightening as his attitude switched back to business. "Do you have any bandages in here?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Ow," Dex complained as Sky Captain dabbed at his broiled arm with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball.

"Hold still, damn it."

"I'm trying. That hurts."

"Well, don't hold your arm against a hot plate again and this will be the only time you have to worry about it." He grimaced as dead skin peeled off beneath his ministrations. "What were you planning on telling the others when they asked what happened?"

"What I told you. Why, is it no good?"

"It will probably work on them."

"It didn't work on you."

"I know you too well."

"Mmm. True." He tried not to flinch as the other man taped a piece of gauze securely over the burn. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet, I'm not done. Let me see your hand."

"Maybe I should just go to the infirmary for that in the morning."

"No, you'll drive the glass in deeper while you're sleeping. You could nick a tendon." He looked up as his engineer swallowed heavily at the thought of disabling his hand. "Now you see why I don't want you doing things like this anymore."

"It's not exactly my idea of a fun night either, Cap."

"I know," he sighed. "Lie down on the bed."

"Huh?"

"This might bleed a fair bit. I don't want you to fall if you pass out."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." He stood up to move to the bed, giving Joe an odd look when he stopped him. "What?"

"Take this off," the pilot ordered as he began to unbutton his shirt for him. "It'll be hell to get the stains out otherwise."

"Jeez, how much blood do you think you're fixing to see?" Dex joked half-heartedly as agile fingers tripped down his stomach, untucking as they went. He shoved away the pleasure that rippled through him at the touch, having a bit more difficulty controlling himself than he normally did when the Captain was near. _What the hell is wrong with me, thinking like that when he's just trying to help?_ _Christ. I'm such a pervert._ He shook his head sharply, trying to clear his mind of the fact that he was being undressed by the man he'd desired for years. _It's no use. Just let things be as they are. It's good enough this way._

"Much more than I'd like to see, I'm sure. Now lie down." Once he'd been obeyed, Joe pulled the chair up to the side of the bed and directed the desk lamp's light onto his task. Cradling slender, blood-splattered fingers gently in one hand, he gripped the first shard of glass with a pair of tweezers and pulled it smoothly out.

"Son of a _bitch_!"

He almost laughed hearing an expletive in that voice. "I'm sorry, but it's going to hurt, love." He hid his shock at having let that final word slip by yanking out another sliver, flinching along with his patient.

Dex didn't answer, silenced partly by a desire to not look like a baby and partly by the term of endearment that had just fled the other man's lips. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh, he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way his pulse quickened every time Joe squeezed his fingers in preparation for another removal.

"I think that's all of it," Sky Captain said eventually, turning the shredded limb under the light to be certain. "Do you feel like there's anything else in there?"

He flexed his fingers cautiously. "It feels okay. I mean, as okay as it really can right now." He looked up at him warily. "You're not going to stitch it, are you?"

"I'm terrible at sutures."

"I know. That's why I asked with such dread."

"That part will wait until morning, I think," Joe conceded, rolling his eyes at Dex's comment. "It isn't bleeding as much as I thought it might." He bandaged the wounds as he spoke, then placed the hand on his patient's stomach with a soft pat. "What's next?"

"Everything else is just bruises, mostly."

"You didn't hit your head on anything, did you?"

"Yeah, but not hard."

Joe's mouth tightened. "Well, you're not acting concussed, so I won't worry about it. I'm not leaving you alone in any case tonight," he added as he began to untie his boots.

"…You're not?" Dex queried, lifting his head slightly to watch him.

"Of course not."

"Cap, you don't have to-"

"Dex, have you ever left me alone after I've had a nightmare? Or, at first, after a flashback?"

"Well, no, but-"

"_I'm not leaving you alone_," he repeated in a tone that left no room for argument. "So slide over, would you?"

Dex lay absolutely rigid as the blankets were pulled up over him and an arm rested along his waist. Resisting the urge to roll onto his side and just begin smothering the other man with kisses took every ounce of strength he had. He was fighting his body's attempts to react to the warm figure beside him so consciously that he nearly fell out of the narrow bed when muttered words brushed against his ear.

"Relax, Dex. It's not like I'm going to rape you."

He bit back a moan. _It's not rape if you like it,_ he lamented silently. Joe's consoling words only made his predicament worse, and he found himself grinding his teeth in a last ditch effort to keep from betraying his arousal.

Sky Captain hoisted himself up on one arm and peered down. "What the hell is going on? You're as stiff as a board. If you're in that much pain, I'll go get you something stronger than aspirin. Just say so."

"I'm fine, Cap. Really," he ground out. His jaw was going to be cramped beyond all belief in the morning at this rate. "Don't worry about it."

_This makes no sense,_ Joe puzzled. _He's lain next to me until I fell asleep after nightmares at least a hundred times, so it __can't__ be that he's disgusted by sharing a bed with me. We're wearing more clothes than normal, for heaven's sake. Unless…_ An understanding grin suddenly lit up his face. _Not turned __off.__ Turned __on__. _

"…Why are you smiling like that?" Dex asked nervously, staring up at him.

"The roles are reversed, aren't they?"

"Huh?"

"You're used to being the consoler, the one _giving_ comfort, not receiving it." He slid his hand up and dug his nails suggestively into the other man's chest. Unable to miss the tiny gasp the action caused, he smirked knowingly. "It's nice to be on the receiving end once in a while, isn't it?" he went on, nudging himself forward until he knew Dex could feel his hardness.

"Joe…this is bad…"

"It's very much _not_ bad. Trust me. I know. It's very, very good." In an instant he was straddling him, leaning forward until barely an inch separated their mouths. "Is that something else he would hit you for? For looking at other boys?" The instant the words were spoken he knew he'd struck a nerve, because his engineer closed his eyes and turned his face away. "No," he whispered sweetly, levering his head back to where it had been. "It's all right. Forget him. Forget that bastard. Look at me. _Look_ at me. I love you."

"You can't…"

"Why not?"

"This could ruin everything."

"It won't."

"If someone finds out-"

"They won't. I promise."

"You can't. If Polly-"

"Leave Polly to me. She's annoying, yes, but I know how to make her squeal. She'll never know. No one will."

"Believe it or not, the thought of you sleeping with Polly doesn't help," Dex said archly. "She's a reporter, Joe, she's not stupid."

"Then let her find out, if she cares that much. I don't. We're both painfully well-off, Dex. In the absolute worst case scenario we buy an estate in some Godforsaken poor country and the rest of our lives fucking in every corner of it. Forget everyone else. I love you, and I _will_ be with you now that I know you want it too."

"…You would really do that? Leave everything we've built here just to be with me?"

"Why do you think I've come home all these years? It's always been you. Always. I just never thought you'd feel the same."

"I felt that way, too. Ever since the first day, Joe. All I ever wanted was you."

"Mmm. All those wasted opportunities." He bent down into the sweetest kiss he'd ever imagined possible. The fingers of Dex's good hand trailed down his jawline, broadcasting passionate heat as they went, then lingered on his collar when they pulled apart. "You taste amazing," Joe breathed, slipping one knee up between the other man's legs before he returned to the assault on his mouth. "You're mine, Dex?" The words came out as a question rather than a statement, and his engineer smiled up at him brilliantly.

"All yours, Cap. Always and forever."

It was going to be a good night, after all.


End file.
